Meet Me Halfway
by Julie Frost
Summary: Addison moves back to New York, and this time, Mark's not going to let her get away as easily.
1. You Can't Always Get What You Want

**Meet Me Halfway**

_Summary:_ Addison is torn between a callous, insensitive ex-lover and a sweet, loving husband...who loves somebody else. Thing is, that ex-lover may not be as callous and insensitive as most people think he is. So, New York or Seattle?

_A/N:_ First of all, I'd like to thank LizPotter-85 and Brenda for encouraging me to write a follow-up. Thanks, girls!

Just like in the actual show, I'm making my chapter titles the titles of actual songs. I did the same thing for two of my other fics, "No Such Thing" and "Voice Mail," simply because I find it to be a lot of fun--I don't mean to brag, but I have a knack for finding the perfect song for every occasion. I do love music, you know :) FYI, this first song was performed by The Rolling Stones, in case you didn't already know that LOL.

Anyway, ain't it obvious that I'm a Mark/Addison shipper? I will use this snippet, written by Erin of Television Without Pity as my inspiration for this story:

_"'Your marriage is over, Addison,' says Mark. 'All you have to do is admit it.' He moves toward her and touches her face gently. 'I'm going to the bar across the street,' he says. 'Meet me there.' He exits, and Addison wonders if she can sleep with Mark again and somehow still save her marriage at the same time. No, Addison. No, you cannot. Now go back to New York and make lots and lots of whoopee with Dr. McSteamy as God intended."_

Man, TWoP rocks! I recommend it to anyone who wants to read snarky, hilarious recaps of their favorite TV shows. :) FYI, you can visit TWoP at Television Without Pity (dot) com -- just remove the spaces. They won't let me post websites here LOL.

-o-

**Chapter 1: You Can't Always Get What You Want (Addison's POV)**

_"Hey, it's me again. I still want you back here in New York, Addison, and I don't care that you didn't show up at the bar that night. Please call me."_

I can't. I just can't let him know. Never mind that his face pops up in my mind every night before I fall asleep, even with Derek beside me. And never mind that I always think about the way his hand felt when he caressed my cheek in the elevator. I have a marriage that I am compelled to save because I don't want to be a statistic; I don't want to be part of the fortysomething percent of the population that is divorced, God damn it!

Derek is a sweet, handsome, intelligent man who deserves a happy marriage. I'm sure it never crossed his mind to cheat on me (Meredith doesn't count). I feel like this whole mess is all my fault and now I have to fix it.

God, am I a bad person? Was it wrong for me to lead Mark to think that I was just scratching an itch so that he wouldn't follow me once I left New York? Was it wrong for me to pretend that I still love Derek so that I could keep this pipe dream of me saving our marriage alive? Hell, even Meredith is affected by this whole thing.

I rolled over on the bed, not bothering to change out of the red dress I wore to the SGH "prom." It's two in the morning and Derek hasn't come home yet. Kind of says a lot about our marriage, doesn't it? Things are back to the way they were before Mark. He's practically never home. Tonight he says it's because he needed to contact Denny Duquette's immediate relatives.

He isn't fooling anybody, though. I know he's not over Meredith, Finn or no Finn. Not that I blame her. She's a sweet girl. It kind of hurts me to know that I'm responsible for ruining whatever she and Derek had in my lame attempt to resuscitate our marriage. But still, he's Derek and he deserves better than a wife who cheated on him with his best friend, even though his best friend was there for me whenever he wasn't. I loved Derek once, didn't I? I owe it to him to try to make this work.

I remember what I told Mark the night I left New York.

_"Please, Addison...what we shared was special."_

_I wrapped my jacket tighter around me and picked up my suitcase. "Derek never deserved any of this."_

_"He doesn't even see you when you're there. Why do you want to stay married to a guy like that?"_

_"Shut up," I spat. "You're a jerk, you know? Seducing your best friend's wife? Nice. Yeah, that's what friends are for."_

_"But I--"_

_"You ruined our marriage, Mark! I regret doing it, and I hope I never see you again." I turned around and ran before he saw the tears running down my eyes. If he did see them, he'd know that I was lying._

It astounds me, really. I scream all of those horrible things at his face and he still calls me everyday. What kind of a man is that?

Maybe I wasn't convincing enough. Of course, it's hard to lie to the man you love. I mean, there was also that time he visited Seattle Grace.

_I looked him in his eyes, as gray as I remembered them. "Why are you here?"_

_"For one reason...to bring you home. I miss you, Addison."_

_I resisted the urge to fly into his arms right then and there. Please, please just go away. "I'm in love with my husband, Mark."_

...Well, I was trying to be. Of course, "I'm attempting to be in love with my husband" isn't nearly as convincing.

I tried, Lord knows I tried my hardest to ignore my feelings for Mark for a good year or so. But why did he have to be so funny and witty and charming and sexy? Why did he have to say all the right things at exactly the right time? Why did he have to possess such an alluring, mischievous, devil-may-care grin? Why did he make my knees turn to jelly whenever he was near? And why, oh why, was he always there for me whenever Derek wasn't?

I loved my husband, didn't I? At least, I thought I did. Even if at our wedding, I couldn't take my eyes off of the best man. Even if I lost my train of thought entirely every time Mark smiled at me. Yes, despite all that, I was pretty sure I loved Derek. Handsome, caring Derek, who was the best neurosurgeon in all of New York.

Perhaps the only reasonable explanation for this would be...Mister Perfect isn't always Mister Right.

Should I attempt to fix what everyone knows is irreparable?

My cellphone lights up before I get the chance to think it over. It's Mark, again. He really deserves better than to end up with a liar like me.

I leave it lying on the bed as it continues to ring. Derek isn't home yet. It's an awful long time to spend informing Denny's relatives that he's passed away, isn't it?

It continues to ring. I want to answer his call, every night I want to answer his call, but sometimes Derek's around. And when he isn't...well, I don't want to tempt fate. It's what wrecked my marriage in the first place, anyway. I'm not taking any chances this time around.

Finally, it's stopped ringing. I wait a few seconds before checking the voice mail.

_"Hey, Addison. I should probably stop wasting money on a daily basis, so this is my last voice mail. Forget what I said in Seattle, I hope things work out between you and Derek. You both deserve the best. I'll still be here in the same old place in New York if you ever change your mind. I'll show up in Seattle again if you want me to. And I still hope you'll call. Love, Mark."_

So...this is the last I'll be hearing of him.

Okay.

Good.

Good!

...Not good.

I dial his number. Yes, even after all this time, I still memorize it. My thumb hovers over the "Call" button. Should I?

Damn it. Erase, erase, erase. What would I say, anyway?

Hell, I know what I _want_ to say. I want to say, fuck this, I want to go home and be with you because I love you, you son of a bitch. But I need to say, I don't love you anymore, and thank you for no longer calling me, and have a nice life while I stay in my crappy marriage here in Seattle. Well, minus that last part. I could say, I love you, Mark, but I have to try to make things work with Derek, and I hope you find somebody who loves you as much as I do, and unlike me, is willing to show it.

Yeah, I'll tell him that. Honesty is the way to go. I dial his number again.

Just as I am about to press the "Call" button, though, the trailer door swings open.

Derek's home.


	2. Trippin' on a Hole in a Paper Heart

**A/N:** Forgot to warn you all in advance--this is what I call a switch-POV story, meaning you'll be reading from a different character's point of view every chapter. It's more of a challenge to write than third-person/omniscient narrator stories, which is the style most fics are written in, but I like writing in first person POV because I get to explore the characters better.

I'm not a fan of OC fics myself (and I don't have much experience in writing them), but I had to create some co-workers for Mark to interact with.A necessary evil, but I tried to keep it to a minimum, so the other co-worker I'm bringing in is someone you may recognize from the two "Code Black" episodes. (wink wink)

I like to visualize scenes in my head, so I wanted a definite look for my male OC. Personally, I imagine him being played by cute-as-a-button Breckin Meyer. :) He's the right mix of adorable, endearing, and insecure, like a more upbeat George O'Malley.

By the way, the title song for this chapter was performed by Stone Temple Pilots, in case you were wondering.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Trippin' On a Hole in a Paper Heart (Mark's POV)**

"It's over, man," I sighed. "Not gonna happen. It's been two weeks, and she hasn't called. I should move on."

Nate clapped me on the back. "That's the spirit! What say we go out tonight and pick up some chicks, Marky Boy?"

Ladies and gentlemen, meet my good friend and fellow plastic surgeon, Nathaniel Burnham. Party boy extraordinaire. People keep mistaking us for brothers, but I don't really see the resemblance (as his personality shows, he's obviously blond), although he does remind me a lot of what I used to be like. A lot of the time I wish I could be that way again and just drown my sorrows in tequila and women, but I've been totally out of it since Addison left. Nowadays, I pass the time by working out, since exercise supposedly releases endorphins and makes you happy. I have yet to see the effects of those goddamned endorphins.

Yet for all the cheer he brought into a room, Nate could not bring me out of the state of lethargy I'd sunken into. Nobody could. "I _guess_ we could go clubbing."

"Oh, don't listen to him, Mark." Enter Hannah Davies, our hospital's head paramedic (she flew in from Seattle) and Nate's polar opposite. Little Hannah, whose dark brown hair is always, _always_ in a bun without a single strand out of place, is irritatingly perfect and so awfully nice that she reminds me of Derek to an almost painful degree. Only Derek wasn't nearly as anal-retentive. Or high-strung. "You could take up a new hobby, like fishing or horseback riding. It's a more _productive_ way to spend your time," she added, narrowing her eyes at Nate before leaving. "And who knows, you might meet someone nice."

"Sounds good," I replied, although I gave Nate a "you know I'm lying" look once she had her back turned. My attention focused on the cellphone in my hand.

"You're welcome to join us, Hannah," Nate called out.

Despite it all, despite losing my best friend _and_ the woman I loved, despite the fact that yeah, I end up alone anyway, I still think it was worth that one night with her, and the short time we spent together after Derek left. It's worth the hope that maybe, just maybe, for one night I was the only thing that mattered to her.

"Earth to Mark," came Nate, breaking my stupor.

I sighed. "She never called."

"You are a sad, sad man, Sloan."

"I know."

A nurse entered through the door on my left. "Dr. Sloan, the patient is ready to see you now."

I strode to the consultation area and sat down behind my desk, blinking drearily at the information sheet on it. "Nice to see you, Miss...Hayes, is it?"

"Yeah," she giggled, "but you can call me Claire." She started blushing incessantly. Nate keeps poking fun at the fact that I make female patients blush every time I walk into the room, but things like that don't really matter all that much to me, especially not right now when Addison is weighing heavily on my mind.

"Uh-huh. So what would you like to have done, Claire?"

She grinned just a little too brightly. She's the kind of girl Addison used to make fun of -- your typical airhead, miniskirt, tank top and all. "I just had my 18th birthday yesterday, and I want a boob job. It's, like, a gift from my parents."

"Well, belated happy birthday, but...your parents are giving you breast enhancement surgery for your 18th birthday?" What the hell kind of parents does this girl have?

"Actually, they just gave me money, but it's what I'm using to pay for the surgery."

She has almost the same hair color as Addison, I notice. "Your parents are okay with this?"

"I'm, like, 18, Dr. Sloan. I don't need their permission."

"Right," I said, raising my eyebrows. "And you're getting the surgery because...?"

"Well, I was with my boyfriend Jake at his house one time, and he was all, 'You'd totally be hotter if you got bigger boobs.' And I was like, 'Really?' And he was like, 'Yeah!' And I looked down and thought, yeah, I totally would! So I looked for the best surgeon in New York, and my friend Jen said 'Dr. Sloan is amazing and really hot,' so I now I'm, like, here." I zone out and my gaze travels to the open doorway, where I see what looks like Addison from the back pass by. Great, now I'm hallucinating?

"Doctor?"

I blinked, re-shifting my focus to the girl in front of me. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

"Uh, my boyfriend said I'd look nicer with bigger boobs."

I got up from my desk and knelt in front of her, looking her right in the eye. "Claire," I began, "I'm not sure you really want to do that."

Her eyes widened. "But why?"

"Because you're a human being, not a Barbie doll. If your boyfriend really does love you, it wouldn't matter to him what you look like." Even if Addison got into a car accident and her face became horribly disfigured, she would still be beautiful to me.

"This procedure is no joke," I continued. "By doing this, you're subjecting yourself to accidents and leakages. Scars and bruising will occur right afterward." I leaned in and whispered, "And trust me, it's not going to look good when you turn 80. It's a big sacrifice you're making for your boyfriend. What has _he_ done for you?" Because I lost my best friend for you, Addison.

Claire took a while to think, and then she just shrugged. I got up and walked back to my desk.

"Look, I'm not going to say no if you still want the surgery, but I'm seriously advising that you rethink this. And if you really want this, make sure you're doing it for _you_, not your boyfriend."

She smiled and stood up from her chair. "Uh, I'm gonna head home and talk it over with Mom and Dad. Thanks for the advice, Doc. I'll be back if I ever change my mind."

"Sure thing." I smiled back and watched her leave. So instead of making money off this kid, I let her go because I feel sorry for her. The sacrifices I make for my own conscience.

Heh, and Webber calls me a jackass.

-o-

"Thank God my shift is finally over. Now I can go home and stare at the ceiling until I fall asleep, hooray."

"You fag," Nate said. "I thought we were partying tonight!"

Before I could answer him, someone leaning against the reception desk catches my eye. Again with the Addison hallucinations. This one's particularly real-looking though. Especially when she turns around and sees me, and...wait!

"Wait! Addison, wait up!" Crap, she's walking away. So she's not a hallucination. At least I won't have to go blow another thousand dollars on my shrink.

She stops and whirls around, glaring at Nate. "I thought I told you not to..."

"I didn't say anything!" Nate exclaims. "He saw you!"

I can hardly believe what I'm hearing. "You _knew _about this, Burnham? You knew about it and you DIDN'T TELL ME?"

"She told me not to!"

"Well, how long has she been here?"

"Since yesterday. Hey, don't blame _me_, you guys. I'm outta here, you two go deal with your issues or whatever on your own time." And with that, he left.

I looked around, then at her. God, even when she's frowning, she's beautiful. "So where's your fantastic little husband?"

"Seattle. And he's not my husband anymore."

Ugh, stop it, Mark. Divorces are expensive and difficult, and you sure as hell shouldn't jump for joy in front of her. "I, uh...I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's like death by car accident---painful but quick." She shrugged nonchalantly, but she couldn't shake off the sad look in her eyes. "I got sick of him fucking Meredith in his head all the damn time. Of course, I need a job and I can't work with my ex-husband in Seattle, so I came back here."

"Okay." I folded my arms and leaned back against the wall. "Now, you've been avoiding me because...?"

"I'm still a little shaken by this whole thing."

"You and I both." I moved closer and slowly ran a hand down her wine red hair. She looked away.

"I can't handle any of this right now, Mark. Divorce isn't easy."

"Then let me help you through it," I offered. Yeah, I'm more desperate than I'd like to be. "I don't like not having you around. I miss you."

"I just need some time alone to sort out my life, okay? And I think you should move on too." She turned on her heel and stormed through the exit doors without another word.

Yep, there she goes again. I guess I'm going to have to get used to seeing only the back of her head. Shit.

"Dr. Sloan?" a nurse called out from the reception desk.

"Yes, David?"

He held out a cellphone. "Dr. Sheperd---er, Montgomery, left this behind."

I took the cellphone, thanked him, and headed to my car, willing myself not to touch it throughout the drive home. As hard as I try, though, I'm still part-jackass as Webber or Derek will tell anyone (though they'd probably omit the prefix), so I pick it up and scroll through the phonebook. Derek's name is still there. Damn. I check her voice mail to see who's been in touch with lately. Is she seeing anyone?

_"You have 50 messages and 0 new messages."_ Ooh, someone's popular. _"Message 1."_

_"Addison? It's Mark. Are you in Seattle yet? Are you okay? I know you don't want to hear from me, but I just want to know if you're okay. Call me."_

Hey, that was my first voice mail since she left! _"Message 2."_

_"Hey, me again. How's Derek? If he's being an asshole, you just let me know so I can beat the shit out of him. Come back to New York. Call me."_

So she didn't delete it? Interesting. _"Message 3."_

_"Mark here. Again. Please call me, Addison, I miss you."_

Hasn't she been keeping voice messages from anybody else? _"Message 4."_

_"I don't care if you delete this too, I'll leave messages every day until you call me back."_

My heartbeat's quickening now. I forward through the messages, hearing only my own voice on each one. _"Message 53."_

_"Hey, Addison. I should probably stop wasting money on a daily basis, so this is my last voice mail. Forget what I said in Seattle, I hope things work out between you and Derek. You both deserve the --"_

I shut off the phone. So she's been saving all of my messages? She was probably too lazy to delete them. But still.

What am I supposed to do with this kind of information? Maybe I was actually more to her than a booty call? Whatever it is, it sure isn't helping me in my efforts to forget about her. Stupid, stupid false hope.

My own cellphone rings. It's Nate. "Sloan, we are partying tonight and I am not taking no for an answer!"


	3. Push the Button

**Chapter 3: Push the Button (Addison's POV)**

So things have finally come to the inevitable end. Only, the end of one problem (Derek) became the start of another (Mark). Find me someone who can look me in the eye and tell me that working in the same building as the man who came between you and your husband and having to pretend you don't have any feelings for him _isn't_ a problem, and I'll show you a liar.

God. I need some alcohol.

One left turn later, and I find myself pulling into the driveway of the same old bar where Derek, Mark and I used to hang out. Lots of good memories here, but more importantly, good drinks. I walked in and crumpled into one of the bar stools.

"Martini, please."

The bar was pretty crowded tonight, which wasn't doing any good for my mood since I just wanted to be alone with my drink. I sensed someone walking up to me.

"Hey, can I buy you a--"

"I already have one," I cut in, not bothering to look at who was talking. "Buzz off."

He left without another word, and I stared blankly into my own drink. My life? Is a mess.

_Derek walked in and took off his jacket. "We need to talk."_

_"We do," I agreed. "I'll go make coffee."_

_When I came back holding two mugs, he was sitting by the table with my cellphone. He looked up at me darkly. "53 voice messages?"_

_"Your coffee will get cold."_

_"53 messages!"_

_I sat down and sighed. "Yes. He's been leaving them ever since I flew to Seattle."_

_"We've been trying to work things out and yet you have 53 messages on your cellphone."_

_"We've been trying to work things out and yet you fuck Meredith in your head all the time," I retorted. I'd been trying to keep that particular accusation in the back of my mind this whole time, but tonight I just couldn't hold it in any longer._

_He didn't say anything._

_"Something tells me you didn't stay behind for Denny Duquette."_

_He looked away._

_"So what happened?"_

_"If you want me to tell you the truth, I suggest you go first."_

_Well, I've got nothing left to lose anymore. "Mark and I stayed together for a while after you left."_

_"I figured as much," he said, pushing my cellphone across the table._

_"Your turn."_

_He sipped his coffee. "I'm not over Meredith."_

_"Tell me something I don't already know."_

_"I didn't stay in the hospital for Denny Duquette."_

_I rested my forehead on my hand and stared at the cold, metallic surface of the table._

_"I was there for Meredith. And earlier on, when I left the dance floor, I wasn't really going out to get some water. I was with her in one of the rooms."_

_Suddenly, the world feels like it's come to a screeching halt. It's the craziest thing. I've suspected this for a while, but it doesn't hurt until I hear it from him. "This," I said, motioning between us, "this isn't going to work, is it?"_

_"Probably not."_

_"We're different people."_

_"We are."_

_"You're in love with Meredith," I concluded._

_"You're in love with Mark."_

_I looked at him. "Who said anything about Mark? I am not in love with Mark."_

_"Please, Addison." He pointed at my cellphone. "I dare you to prove me wrong."_

_I picked it up. "What do you want me to do?"_

_"Delete all of the voice messages," he answered, crossing his arms._

_There it was in my hand, challenging me. I pressed a series of silver buttons until "Delete?" flashed on the screen. My thumb hovered over the one button that would erase one message. One stupid message from one stupid man. A relatively simple task._

_And I couldn't do it._

_I shook my head. "It's over, isn't it?"_

_"It is."_

While I would like to blame Mark for the rapid deterioration of my marriage, it's not his fault. My marriage died a slow, slow death. He was absent. I was tired. We were both too lazy to try harder. I did love him, just not enough. To top it all off, I was unwittingly in love with Mark the whole time, but it was only during that one fateful night that it finally came full circle.

Now, I can't even allow myself to be with him, simply because I know he deserves better. Mark deserves someone who loves him and is willing to show it. One out of two just isn't good enough.

As fate would have it, there he was on the dance floor. "What the..."

I don't care that the girl he's with is hot, she is _not_ what I mean when I say that Mark deserves better. Nate saw me first but looked away. Mark then looked my way and started walking towards me. I downed my tequila, slammed some money down on the counter and got the hell out of there, but he caught me a few meters from my car.

"Addison, wait!"

Okay, I have had it. I wrenched my arm from his grasp and looked him squarely in the eyes. "What do you want from me? Don't you understand that I'm having a tough time right now?"

"I just..."

"You just want the truth? Well, here's the fucking truth: I wasn't just using you because I was alone and horny, even though I tried to make you think that. I have _always_ had feelings for you, and I am not over you. Okay? Get it? And I don't want to be with you right now, or frankly, ever, because I'm not worth it. I'm not worth your love, Mark."

He looked dumbfounded. "But I..."

"Do you really want someone who will lie to your face because she doesn't want to be known as a divorcee?" I took a deep breath. "Someone who would rather cling to a shitty marriage than be with you, even if she loves you? You deserve better, as much as it pains me to say that. So please, please just leave me alone to wallow in my misery a while, because it hurts me to be near someone I want but can't have."

He blinked. "I was just going to give you back your cellphone. You left it in the hospital earlier."

Oh, SHIT.

"I, uh, thanks," I stammered and took it from him. Amazing. He manages to make me spill my guts without even consciously trying.

He drew nearer and touched my cheek, causing me to shiver slightly. "So you _did _miss me," he concluded, smiling.

Yes, I fucking did. "Goodbye, Mark." I turned and walked towards my car without looking back.

* * *

I attempted a smile at them, which was reciprocated by a wide grin from Hannah and a half-smile from Nate. I've known him since I started working here several years ago, but she wasn't around back then. I remember her from Seattle, but of course, I'm not going to tell her that. Unfortunately, he knows about Mark and I, which makes things awkward times one hundred.

About two minutes of silence pass by. Nate drums his fingers on the arm of a chair he's sitting in. I tap my pen on the board I'm holding.

"So," Hannah piped up. "Are you new here?"

"I've been here a few years. Tried working in Seattle but things didn't work out too well, so I moved back."

"Oh."

Silence. This will _not_ be easy.

"Slow day, huh?" Nate asked no one in particular.

"Yeah."

He turned to Hannah. "You know, I've never seen you with your hair down."

"Well, I--"

We all looked towards the open doorway upon hearing footsteps and the sound of someone's voice. "So you'll be here by tomorrow? That's great. See you then. Bye."

Mark walked in and shut his cellphone. I'll bet he was talking to that bimbo he met at the bar. "Good morning, people! Did I miss anything?"

"Good morning," Nate and Hannah replied. I walked out, only to hear his footsteps behind me.

"Addison!"

"I need some fresh air," I lied, my voice cracking.

"Addison, what is your problem?"

I jammed the "up" button on the elevator. "I take it things went well with you and Girl from Bar?"

"Why is that any of your concern?"

"Jesus, this elevator is taking forever!" I exclaimed, still avoiding his gaze.

He ignored my last statement. "And for your information, she saw the way I was looking at you and took her leave."

...And there it is. I _hate_ that. I hate how he can weaken my resolve with just a few words. Luckily for me, the elevator doors opened before I had to say anything. I stepped inside and reached for the button to close it but he managed to get in before I could escape him.

He moved closer and closer to me until I was up against the wall. "Why are you still avoiding me?"

I shut my eyes, breathing in the scent of his aftershave. "Because you're _torturing_ me, Mark. Why can't you just find somebody else?"

"I don't want anybody else, Addison." I felt his breath against my ear, setting fire to my insides. "And you can't make me."

"Yeah, right. What about the girl who was with you at the bar?" I opened my eyes, still looking down to avoid looking right at him. His arms were on either side of me. Images of the night Derek caught us flashed through my mind. I remembered his muscular arms, glistening with sweat, pinning me to the bed.

Shit. I should stop thinking. Right now.

"I only talked to her to humor Nate. He knows what a mess I've been without you," he whispered. "I still miss you."

"Please stop saying that." My heart was beating so hard I could hear it.

The sound of the elevator doors opening interrupted us. He moved to leave. As the doors began to close behind him, however, he stepped back in, cornering me. I had no way out. He looked down at me with those wonderful gray eyes...the ones that make me lose control every time. I lost all ability to think.

All I know is that there's here, and him, and now.

Mark spoke, lowering his voice to a growl. "Do you _really_ want me to leave you alone?"

I should say yes. _I should say yes._ I should really want him to leave me alone. I've been away from him for so long that I should be used to not having him by now. But I don't. What's wrong with me?

The elevator was moving once again. He continued looking at me with those eyes, those breathtaking eyes which I hate because of what they can do to me, and a little grin, reducing me to a quivering mess beneath him. I looked down at his firm, sculpted upper body, the image of which had been burned into my memory long before today. He is tempting me, and he's winning. I looked back up at him, willing myself not to give in.

But...oh, if I only could. Just this once.

So I did. I kissed him the way I always wanted to. Which was: hard. And he tastes the same way as I remembered. I closed my eyes and felt the cold of the elevator wall behind me, and the heat of his body on me. And then I heard the tiny ring signifying that the elevator had reached the level, followed by the sound of the doors sliding open.

I quickly pushed him off and walked out of there before my desire got the better of me again.

"Don't tell me that didn't mean anything to you, because it meant everything to me!" he yelled behind me as the elevator doors started to close on him. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I rushed through the hallway.

What did I just do?

Okay, I _know_ what I did. I wanted to kiss him, and then I kissed him. And then I walked away.

I walked away. God, I'm turning into Derek.

* * *

_A/N:_ Ooh, cruel finish. I love cliffhangers. :P Anyway, I know Sugababes' "Push the Button" was a weird song choice because it's more contemporary than the previous songs I've used, but it just fit this chapter so perfectly that I couldn't say no. Firstly, Addie couldn't make herself push the one button that would delete Mark's message. Secondly, Mark manages to push Addie's buttons without even trying (I'm talking about the scene outside the bar). And lastly, the "Push the Button" music video involved people making out in elevators, so...yeah, you get it. 


	4. I'm Not an Addict

**Chapter 4: I'm Not an Addict (Alex's POV)**

"You're sure about this?"

I hugged her, willing myself not to cry. "I'll miss you, Olivia, but yeah."

Meredith smiled sadly at us. "It's not gonna be the same without you."

"Aw, you're just saying that. I bet you guys are gonna have a field day the moment I'm gone from Seattle. I can practically _feel_ O'Malley laughing already."

She shook her head. "You pretend to be a jackass, but I know you're just a big, fluffy ball of nice."

"Now, let's just keep that between us. Don't want everyone to know my little secret."

_"Flight 407, leaving for New York. All passengers must board immediately."_

"There's my cue," I said, picking up my suitcases. "Be good now, you two. And thanks for driving me here."

"I still can't believe this is the last time I'll see you, Alex," Olivia sighed.

I looked in her tear-filled eyes for one final time, and smiled. "It won't be. Give me about five years, and you'll be seeing my face on billboards everywhere."

"Oh, you. Come here," Meredith said, and hugged me as well.

With a final wave, I headed for the airport gate with two suitcases--one had my clothes, and the other had my books. It was a nice way to leave; regardless of my abrasive nature, I still had some friends at Seattle Grace.

I only wish I could see Izzie one last time before I left, but none of us knew where she'd gone to after she quit a few weeks ago. Meredith and George said that by the time they'd arrived home that night, she and her belongings had vanished. We could only hope she's still alive by now.

My hands were cold and shaky even after I'd found my seat. Could you really blame me for being nervous? This is my shot at what I really want to become! I'm more ambitious than most people realize, but I'm not about to go telling anybody that, especially not my fellow interns. Yang would skin me alive in a nanosecond.

Whenever people ask me why I'm so into plastic surgery, I give them the quick and expected answer: I want to give women smaller waists, bigger boobs and prettier faces. I get varied replies, usually a laugh, sometimes a look of disgust, and on one regrettable occasion, a slap in the face (sorry again, Aunt Sally). Basically, it's an answer that prevents further questioning.

Really, though, there's more to plastic surgery than most people realize. To me, plastic surgery doesn't just alter one's looks. Patients leave smiling just a little bit bigger, and that's the best change a surgeon can possibly make in someone. I want to provide solutions for people--with a little work, suddenly a woman won't have to be so self-conscious about a mole on her face. Suddenly a child won't have to grow up with a harelip. Suddenly a man can hope that maybe he won't live the rest of his life horribly disfigured after a car accident.

Some people say that plastic surgery deals solely with the superficial. It's half-true. Plastic surgeons do work on the surface, but they fix what's inside. More importantly than changing how others see a person, they change how a person sees himself or herself.

They restore confidence, and that's what I want to do for a living.

* * *

Lenox Hill Hospital didn't looktoo different from Seattle Grace, although there's a lot more red and orange here. 

"Thanks again for having me here, Chief, uh..." I stole a quick glance at the nameplate on the desk, which read Angela Fisher, M.D. "...Chief Fisher."

She smiled from behind her desk. "Webber tells me you're aching to get into plastic surgery."

"Yes, Ma'am, I am."

"He says you've got a lot of potential, but that your bedside manner...could use a little tweaking."

"Well..."

"You're in New York now, Karev," she laughed. "It's not going to be an issue."

Oh, thank God.

"Now run along, Dr. Sloan doesn't have all day."

"Thank you, Chief," I said before heading to the locker room. In the hallway, I bumped into none other than Dr. Addison Montgomery (formerly known as the She-Shepherd) herself.

She looked me up and down and crossed her arms, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "Well, well, if it isn't Alex Karev!"

"Good morning, Dr. Montgomery."

"Missed being my bitch, huh?"

"Actually," Dr. Sloan cut in, "Karev is _my_ bitch now."

"I'm taking up plastic surgery, which is why I'm in New York. It was fun being a part-time gynecologist-in-training, though. Cheers."

She had locked eyes with Dr. Sloan, and I could feel a chill in the room. Was it something I said?

"I just got off the phone with him yesterday, Dr. Montgomery, so it's confirmed that yes, he will be working under Burnham, who works under me. We have a busy day today, Karev."

"That was _him_ on the cellphone? I thought...ah, never mind," she muttered and walked away. He looked on as she left, and went the other way.

Strange. I thought I'd seen weird things back in Seattle Grace, but nothing like this.

Over by the reception area, a brunette waved at me. "Hey there, new guy! Are you the transferee?"

"Yep. Alex Karev, known to most people as Dr. Evil Spawn."

"Well, you're awfully cute for an Evil Spawn," she gushed. "I'm Hannah Davies, head paramedic. Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

I came close to referring to her as The Bomb Girl, but I don't want to be insensitive. (Wherever you are, O'Malley, stop laughing.) I swallowed back memories of Code Black Day and smiled. "Nah, I don't think so."

Her gaze quickly turned to the hospital entrance as the doors swung open. Her big grin got even bigger upon seeing the blond man walking through. "Nate! Nate!"

"Huh?"

"This is the transferee!"

He turned to me. "Oh, so _you're _Karev? I heard you were coming today. I'm Nathaniel Burnham, and I'll be your attending."

"Good morning, Dr. Burnham," I said, shaking his hand.

"Aw, 'Dr. Burnham' is reserved for really cranky patients. Call me Nate."

I squinted at him, mildly suspicious. "You're oddly..._nice_, for an attending."

Hannah laughed. "Nate, nice? Oh, you _so_ do not know that man."

"Relatively nice, anyway. Our attending in Seattle was the devil incarnate -- everyone calls her The Nazi." Though scary as she was, I loved that woman. We all did.

"So we've heard. She scared you all the way to New York?"

They both looked at me intently. He blinks a lot more than she does.

"Hell no. I asked to be transferred because Dr. Sloan suggested I move here if I wanted to become a plastic surgeon."

"Interesting. Why plastic surgery?"

I smirked. Here it comes! "Well, Hannah, why wouldn't I want to be part of the industry responsible for giving millions of women bigger boobs and smaller waistlines?"

Nate laughed and high-fived me as she scowled at us.

So I have a lax attending and a cute paramedic who digs me? It's certainly a trade-up from a surly attending and four interns who hate me. "Man, New York is my kind of place!"

"Welcome to the jungle, Karev. The boys and I will be hanging out at a nearby bar tomorrow night. Join us?"

"I'm there. I actually don't have any plans tonight, so why don't we all go then?"

"Uh, I have to pick Hannah up from the dentist later on and bring her home," he replied, grinning sheepishly at her.

"I'm having my wisdom teeth removed, and they said it wouldn't be safe if I went home alone directly after."

I looked from one to the other. "Are you two, like, together?"

That very second, she burst into laughter and he turned a little pink.

"We're just friends," she assured me.

Uh-huh.

"Dr. Karev, I think we should get going. Follow me, please," he half-squeaked, with a grin that looked rather uneasy.

-o-

After a pretty good first day in New York, I decided to walk to the hotel since I had no other plans that night. There were a few bars along the way, but I was never in the mood to go to any since Izzie left. It just isn't as fun anymore. I think I'm just going to go home and...sleep. Maybe I'll study a little if I'm not too tired yet.

_What the hell. _I blinked. I blinked again. I rubbed my eyes and squinted to see the large billboard up ahead better. "Is that...?"

Unless I'm going blind, it really is.

There was no mistaking the rosy complexion, the laughing eyes, and the rich blonde hair. She was wearing a white lace shirt, and she faced backwards to give a big, open-mouthed smile at the camera, with her hands in her hair. Naturally, it was an ad for a brand of shampoo.

"Stare any longer and you'll burn a hole through that billboard. You know that girl?" asked a voice from behind me.

I nodded. "She's only the most beautiful girl I have ever--" I turned around to face who was talking to me. By the way my face turned red, I'm sure you know who it was. "...known. Hi, Izzie."

"Small world, huh?"

She smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose. How'd you know I was here?"

"I didn't. What are you doing in New York?"

"I needed a job, dummy, so I went back to modeling. That's my latest gig up there," she said, pointing up at the billboard.

"Well, you certainly made things easier for me. Now I don't have to wallpaper the hospital with pictures of you anymore," I quipped.

"Now, _there's_ something I'm not gonna miss."

"Ooh, so you missed me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't push your luck, Mister. Anyway, what are _you_ doing here?"

"I transferred to Lenox Hill from SGH. I told you before, I'm really serious about becoming a plastic surgeon."

Well, I had told her a lot of things. She was that kind of person; the one you could tell anything to. It's a shame that my feelings for her kind of got in the way, ironically enough.

We'd started going along the sidewalk. "Iz, why did you ditch us? We were all worried about you...me, Meredith, George, even Cristina."

She sighed. "I needed to break away for a while. Wouldn't you feel the same way if you lost your job _and_ your fiancé in the same day?"

I said nothing; instead, I held her hand and continued walking with her.

"I still think about you guys. And Denny. And Seattle. I was considering going back someday, but not right now. What's been going on there?"

"Well, the two Shepherds have finally split up, though everyone saw _that_ coming. Meredith and Derek are starting over, but they've got a long way to go. She and I have become good friends since you left, I mean, that really took its toll on all of us."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. The vet guy Meredith was dating," I continued, "she broke it off with him a day after the prom. Poor guy, he deserved better. O'Malley's doing great, though--he and Callie are inseparable."

Finally, she smiled. "That's good to hear."

We talked more about Seattle, and before I knew it, we had already arrived at my hotel. "Well, this is where I'm staying," I told her.

She looked so beautiful under the dim yellow light of the streetlamps. It only made me want her more, but I know I can't have her. Not this way. I know she needs a listening ear and an open heart, and that's what I'm giving her. I don't want to take advantage of a woman who's been through what she has.

She kissed me on the cheek. "I hope I'll be seeing you around again. You still have my number, right?"

"Of course I do. But you never answered."

"Then ring me sometime," she called behind her as she walked away. "I promise I'll answer. It was nice talking to you!"

And there I stood in front of my hotel, looking particularly happy. Today was a good day in the life of Alex Karev.

* * *

**A/N: **You all know I couldn't leave Alex and Izzie alone, right? I thought Denny was witty and great, but Alex and Izzie are just so fantastic together (I still remember AND LOVE the "You have dirty in your eyes" line) that I had to write them in.

Next chapter: Mark _finally _works things out. However...


	5. The Denial Twist

_A/N: _Whoops, forgot to tell you that last chapter's song was performed by K's Choice (and it's a great song!). This chapter's song is by ever-fantastic rock duo The White Stripes.

**Chapter 5: The Denial Twist (Addison's POV)**

It's been said that if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. But what do I do if I can't escape the one I love when I'm trying not to love him?

Damn it. I should really stop thinking about this. I squinted at the computer screen before me, trying to comprehend the website information. It was the fourth time I'd read through that paragraph and I couldn't understand a word.

I heard the door open and close.

"Hi."

"What do you want, Mark?"

He sat down on the chair beside me. "Did you know that all this time, we've never gone on a real date?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that."

"So...I want to take you out," he said.

I kept my eyes on the computer screen. "Mark, please."

"Why can't I? What is so wrong with giving me a chance?"

"It just is. It's...uh..." Think of an excuse, think of an excuse... "...unprofessional."

"It worked for Derek, didn't it?" he sneered.

"God, Mark, I _really _don't want to talk about my ex-husband right now."

"Fine. Can you at least put an end to my agony?"

I took off my reading glasses and spun around on the chair to face him. "How?"

"If you don't have any feelings for me at all, just tell me right now. I won't ask you out anymore, I'll leave you alone, and if I'm lucky I might find myself in the mood to go dating again."

The mere thought of Mark with another woman got my blood boiling.

"I'll cut myself out of your life," he concluded, leaning in until our faces were millimeters apart. "Just don't sugarcoat things, Addison. I want the truth. Right now. Don't let me down easy, I'm a man and I can handle it if you don't love me back. So do you or don't you?"

"I...don't know."

He leaned back and exhaled sharply. "Jesus Christ."

"I really don't, Mark," I told him.

He closed the distance between us with a soft kiss, before pulling back momentarily. "Then I'm not giving up until I hear it from you," he whispered and then kissed me again.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Mark pulled back.

"Doctor...oh, sorry. I'll come back later--"

"No, don't," I sighed. "What is it, Dr. Karev?"

* * *

In this kind of environment, fifteen minutes felt like fifteen hours. No sound at all except for the low rumble of the engine. Don't get me wrong, I like flying first class, but at this point I'd rather have been in an irritatingly loud helicopter than stuck for four hours in an airplane with an intern _who just saw me kissing Mark_. 

We were on our way to Nebraska for an organ harvest, and Nate had assigned Dr. Karev to go with me. Note to self: Strangle Nate for having such horrible timing.

"So, Karev," I said, "did you...?"

"I didn't see...much."

"Okay."

"Uh, okay."

Silence.

"How's Meredith doing?"

"She's fine. Trying hard not to let Shepherd get the best of her, but we all know that's impossible."

I let out a laugh, and then it was quiet between us. Again.

"Mark and I aren't dating, in case you were wondering."

"Right," he said. A wolfish grin appeared on his face. "So you two just like to--"

"No, Dr. Karev, Mark and I are not anything. What you saw was a momentary lapse in judgment."

"Ooh, 'lapse in judgment.' That brings back fond memories."

"Memories of what?"

"Just a girl I used to know," he mused, staring out the window. "Look, I know every chick in the hospital digs Dr. Sloan, but really. If you didn't want to kiss him, you wouldn't," he summed up neatly.

"Okay, yeah. We're just not together. I cheated on someone, as all of Seattle Grace knows, and now I have to pay the price."

"Which is what?"

"Guilt, Karev. Guilt."

"Join the club," he laughed.

I raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Dr. Montgomery, we have more in common than you might think."

Hell, I've got four hours to waste. At least we finally have something to talk about. "Go on."

"Well, I cheated on this one girl because I was commitment-phobic. I guess I loved her, but I didn't want to admit it to anyone, myself included. I tried to make myself believe that she was just another girl. Didn't work that way, though. As it turns out, I never was able to forget about her. By then, it was too late because she'd fallen in love with somebody else. She told me that I'm not good enough for her, which I suppose I am. Long story short, I lost her."

"That's too bad."

"That's life." He looked at me with a sad smile. "What about you?"

In a way, Alex was right. We do have a lot in common. That moment, I realized that I was constantly avoiding this issue I have with Mark because I'm not ready or willing to admit to what I have known for a long time. "Uh, I was just scratching an itch."

"Something tells me you're lying."

"I hate that you're more perceptive than you look."

"It's not a difficult assumption; after all, I have seen the way you two look at each other."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Anyway," he continued, "unlike me, at least you still have a chance. He wants you, what more do you need? All you have to do is let him love you."

"You didn't let her love you."

"Which is exactly why I'm telling you this now."

"It's not as easy as it sounds," I sighed.

"I know. But it's easier than losing him."

I raised an eyebrow. "...Why are you being so nice to me today?"

He shrugged. "I'm stuck with you for four hours. What have I got to lose?"

* * *

At the end of the day, when I'd made it back to the hospital, I stood by the window watching him walk to his car. One of these days, Mark, I'll make up my mind. 

I took the stairs, wary that the elevator would just bring back certain memories. Alex waved at me by the exit. The 4-hour flight wasn't so bad, after all. I guess I won't be strangling Nate anytime soon.

"Hey, Dr. M."

"Hello, Alex. Waiting for someone?"

"I have a date tonight."

"With who?"

He looked outside and smiled. "Remember that girl I was talking to you about earlier?"

I looked in time to see a blonde woman walking into the hospital. A _very familiar _blonde woman. "...Ah."

"After our little chit-chat, I decided to call her up."

"You ready, Alex?" she asked, sidling up to him. "Hi, Dr. Montgomery."

"Nice to see you again, Izzie."

He grinned and took her hand. "Later, Dr. M."

"Have a good time, kids," I laughed, watching Alex and Izzie leave together. Sometimes, you find answers where you don't expect them to be.

And that moment, I'd made my decision about Mark.


	6. About a Girl

_A/N:_ The chapter theme was one of my favorite Nirvana songs, used here for obvious reasons. And for the jumpy, beware--nasty cliffhanger up ahead.

-o-

**Chapter 6: About a Girl (Mark's POV)**

I do not need his permission to love her.

Well, I'd been trying to tell myself that the whole day, but the wireless telephone on my counter keeps indirectly nagging me to call.

Mind you, this isn't how I normally spend my days off, but has anything in my life ever been normal since she returned to New York?

Everything else is the same, though. I'm bumming around in nothing but my favorite boxers, and the TV is tuned in to a football game. It's what's going on in my head that is radically messed up.

I walked over to the fridge to get a can of beer. The phone is still there on the counter. I sat down on the couch to watch the football game. The goddamned phone is still there on the counter.

My $400-an-hour shrink always talks to me about closure and how it is so sorely lacking in my sad, sad life. (He didn't quite put it that way, but you get the idea.) He says I'm in denial about a lot of things, particularly my tainted relationships with my best friend and the woman I love.

The fucking phone is still there on the counter.

Oh, what the hell. I don't pay him four hundred dollars an hour for nothing.

I picked up the phone, set the TV on mute, leaned over the counter and dialed away. I know he won't answer, but at least I get to say my piece. If it'll help me attain this so-called "closure," I guess it's worth a shot.

I get the answering machine, predictably enough. _"Hi, you've reached Derek and Meredith. We're not home right now, so please leave a message after the beep."_

"'Derek and Meredith' eh? You dog," I laughed. "Anyway, Mark here. I know you're not gonna answer this, but I hope you'll hear me out before you press the delete button or decimate the answering machine with a hammer. So where do I start? Aw, heck, I'll just cut to the chase: I'm sorry, man. For everything. I didn't tell you this before, but I did what I did because I lo--"

_"...Mark?"_

"What the fuck, Derek, you picked up? I had this big ready-for-recording speech ready but you made me lose my train of thought."

_"I'm listening."_

"Okay, okay. Where'd I leave off?"

_"You did what you did because you lo...?"_

"Right. Look, you know I wouldn't do this to you just because I felt like it, right?"

_"It certainly looked that way to me."_

"Come on, man, we were best friends!"

_"...I know. That's what made it hurt worse."_

"Aww, shit. I'm really sorry. But it's not like I picked Addison just to mess with you."

_"You could've had any girl you wanted, Mark, you know how they are around you. I'm the one they want to go out with, and you're the one they want to fuck. Why did it have to be my wife?"_

"Because...because I'm in love with her. I have been for a long time now." My breath was starting to catch up in my throat. "So there. I'm sorry for loving her."

Silence ensued, followed by a sudden outburst of laughter from the other end.

"What's so funny?"

_"Oh, man,"_ he wheezed. _"We've been best friends since, like, forever, and I never knew that."_

"Did I ever tell you how weird you are? I just said that I'm in love with your ex-wife and you...laugh. In your annoying, high-pitched Derek Shepherd cackle."

_"Please. I do not cackle."_

"Do too."

_"Do not."_

"Do too."

_"Anyway, so what if I laughed? Did you want me to hit you instead? I mean, I would if you really want me to, but punching the telephone doesn't have quite the same effect."_

"Spare yourself the trouble, my friend. I still have painful memories of the last time you punched me."

_"The _only_ time I punched you."_

"No, there was that time when we both got really hammered and I told you that the Yankees sucked."

_"...Oh yeah. Good times."_

"Speaking of you decking me in Seattle, how are things with 'Derek and Meredith we are not home right now'?"

_"She's not here right now, she said something earlier about not having gone to the parlor in six months, or something along those lines."_

"No, I mean how are you two doing?"

_"Oh, we're great. She brightens my days, suddenly the colors are brighter and food tastes better and--"_

"You FAG."

_"She's amazing in bed."_

"Heeey, now we're talking."

_"It really turns me on when she touches my--"_

"Okaythankyoutoomuchinformation!"

_"Right. Anyway, I'm happy. I love her and she loves me back. Now, how are things in your neck of the woods?"_

"I'm...not quite sure I can say the same. I do love her, but she's sending mixed signals."

_"Oh, you mean..."_

"Addison. Yeah. Is this too hard to talk about?"

_"Nah, it's okay. I mean, it was a painful but relatively amicable split."_

"Okay. So...I'm in limbo right now. She knows I love her. Ball's in her court."

_"...That's it?"_

"Pretty much."

_"Let me get this straight: you love her."_

"Yes."

_"And you don't really plan to do anything about it."_

"Uh-huh."

_"God, you're an idiot."_

"I know."

_"Then do something, you idiot. Don't make the same mistake I did!"_

"Meaning what, exactly?"

_"I almost lost Meredith to a...vet."_

"A vet," I repeated, laughing. "What happened there?"

_"I fought for her. She broke up with him, eventually."_

"Poor guy."

_"He didn't take it too well, but he's a good man. He'll move on."_

"But back to you telling me to do something. Are you seriously advising me to actively pursue your ex-wife? Call me crazy, but I think there's something really wrong with this picture."

_"Believe me, it's not easy. But if it's gonna be anyone, Mark, I want it to be you."_

"Why do you always have to be the martyr?" I laughed.

_"Simple. 'Cause you're not."_

"Oh, burn."

_"By the way, I never really got to thank you properly. So thank you, Mark."_

"For what?"

_"If it weren't for you, I never would have met Meredith."_

"You are a strange, strange man, Derek Shepherd."

_"So I've heard."_

"But thanks for picking up the phone. Now I can tell my psychiatrist that I've finally gotten hold of some much-needed closure."

_"Better yet, don't go. Saves time and money."_

"Good point."

_"Well, it's been nice talking to you, Mark."_

"You too. 'Til next time, you big ol' queen."

_"See you soon, crack whore."_

I put down the phone and headed for the bedroom to pick out some clothes. No time to waste, Derek said I should do something, so damn it, I'm gonna do something.

Once fully dressed, I ran to my car and jammed the key into the ignition. She hadn't sold her house in New York, so she probably still lives there.

"Ah, shit." Traffic sucks. At least I can multi-task, so I whipped out my cellphone and dialed her number.

And I get redirected to voice mail. "Addison, are you home? I'm on my way there, and I'm not gonna leave until I get an answer out of you, because I love you and I don't want to wait any longer. Just so you know, this is an ultimatum. And there's nothing you can do abou--"

_SMASH._


	7. Beauty and Madness

_A/N:_ Sorry I took so long, guess I got a little caught up in things. Anyway, song performed by Fra Lippo Lippi. And I was inspired to write that phone conversation after reading a different fanfic (although that fanfic was MUCH dirtier!). LOL.

**Chapter 7: Beauty and Madness (Alex's POV)**

"In all my life, I never thought I'd get to see Central Park."

"Beautiful, huh?" And I wasn't even talking about the park.

We were on a bench underneath a tree, and I watched as the wind blew through her hair. She brushed off a brown leaf from my shoulder.

"Do you believe in serendipity, Alex?"

"I do now."

"Me too." She smiled. "I'm glad you're here in New York. The hardest thing about leaving Seattle was that I'd never get to see you again."

"Really? I thought you hated me."

"No, I didn't. You hurt me once, but I didn't hate you."

"Well, there was that time when you said I wasn't good enough for anybody..."

"I didn't mean that," she said. "Really, Alex. Whoever wins your heart is a very lucky girl."

"Thanks. And I'm sorry for hurting you. I was scared."

"Of what?"

I looked down as she held my hand. "A lot of things. Going nuts. Losing control. Falling." She drove me crazy. She had always driven me crazy.

"Well, we're all scared. That's why people need each other."

True. "Would it be inappropriate for me to admit now that I'd never gotten over you?"

"Alex Karev, why do you make it so hard for me to hate you?"

"Because I don't want you to," I replied, grinning sheepishly. "By the way, when I say I'd never gotten over you...I mean that figuratively."

She shook her head and laughed. "You have dirty in your eyes again."

"Only when I'm looking at you."

"You do understand that I only tolerate your cheesy pick-up lines because I like you, right?"

We looked at each other. Now, I don't know if it was just the weather, or if she was feeling particularly happy, or if she really felt like it, but I do know that she kissed me. I mean, yeah, we'd kissed several times before, but it was either because we were drunk and/or feeling amorous, or because I kissed her. But this time, she kissed me. And there was something about this kiss that made it different from all the others. It was more...real.

"You like me?" I asked, smiling.

"That I do. And don't mess it up this time."

Trust me, that's the last thing I'd want to do.

-o-

It was dark in the on-call room. I was lying down on the upper bunk, staring at the maroon bedsheets. The ones at Seattle Grace were sea green.

"Dude, I feel sorry for Mark," Nate said from the lower bunk. "He's so hung up on Addison. Like, after work, he just goes home and does...nothing."

"Women."

"Yes, women. God brought them here to drive some of us crazy and make everyone else depressed."

"Which one are you?"

"Oh, I can totally keep my feelings in check."

Yeah, right. Like his face doesn't go all pink whenever Hannah's around.

"And you, Alex?"

I smiled, thinking of Izzie. "Crazy. But in a good way."

"Really? What's she like?"

"I'm sure you know," I teased.

"No, I don't."

"Look at it this way: she is to me what Hannah is to you."

"Puh-leaze, Hannah and I are just friends." A beeper went off. "Shit, someone paged. Smell ya later."

As soon as the door closed, I reached for my cellphone and dialed.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey, Meredith, it's me."

_"Oh, hi! What's up?"_

"You won't believe this, but Izzie's here."

_"...Really? How is she?"_

"She's fine. She went back to modeling, which is why she's in New York. I'll tell her to call you guys."

_"Please do, we all miss her. You should see George, he's like a wounded puppy."_

"Ain't he always?" I laughed. "So what's been going on since I left?"

_"Well, there are four of us in the house now: me, Derek, George and Callie. But sometimes we stay in his trailer because he_ _likes to go fishing."_

"Wow, he sounds like a really fun guy."

_"I can practically hear you rolling your eyes, Alex."_

"Aww, am I that predictable?"

_"Yes you are."_

"Well, I--oh hey, I gotta go. Call you later, okay?"

I ended the call as soon as I saw Hannah open the door. "What's going on?"

"You have to come with me, it's an emergency!"

She ran through the hallway with me right behind her, until we reached the ambulance. I got in on the passenger side as she took the wheel.

"Sorry to bug you, Alex, but most of the others are off-shift and the ones that are still here had to rush to a train wreckage in the East Village. I need you to help me lift and transport the patient."

"What's the 411?" she asked into the radio.

_"We have a collision at the corner of 23rd and 5th," _replied a male voice._ "Two victims, both white, male. One John Doe and--Charlie, what does the ID say? Okay. One John Doe and one Dr. Mark Sloan."_


	8. Barely Breathing

**Chapter 8: Barely Breathing (Mark's POV)**

Darkness. Where's Addison?

"How's he doing?"

"Two broken ribs, severe damage to internal organs, deep forehead laceration. It could be worse, but we can't check arm and leg function yet."

"You mean he could become a paraplegic?"

"It's a possibility. He's very lucky to have survived, though."

"Okay, well, I'm just gonna sit here until he wakes up."

...Where's Addison?

As I heard the sound of footsteps gradually dying away, I blinked my eyes open until the white blur focused into what I recognized as a hospital room. The short hand of the wall clock pointed to 2. It was dark outside, so I figured it was 2 a.m.

"Hey there."

With some amount of pain, I turned my head to the left. "Ah, Nate. You're a sight for...eyes that want to be sore."

He laughed. "So what did you hear?"

"Stuff I can't really remember. What happened?"

"A drunk truck driver ran a red light and crashed into your car a few hours ago. You suffered some nasty injuries, but at least you're alive. Oh, and I have your cellphone," he said, reaching into his pocket and handing it to me. "Ten missed calls from Addison. Somebody really likes you."

It hurt my throat, but I couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Jesus. The one time she decides to call me, I can't answer the phone. Fate sucks."

"Hey, Hannah and the team got to the site as soon as possible. You might've been dead otherwise."

I nodded. "Remind me to thank her later. And I'm glad you mentioned Hannah."

"...Why?"

The door was closed, so I continued. "Don't sugarcoat, Nate, this is important: could I die anytime soon?"

"Y-you might."

"Then we're gonna talk, because I want you to pull your head out of your ass pronto."

A crease formed between his eyebrows. "I think they gave you too much morphine..."

"No, Nate. Whether or not I die, I gotta tell you now. Ask her out."

"What?"

"You heard me. And you can't say you don't want to, because you can't lie to a dying man. Yeah, you like your parties, but don't think I don't notice that if Hannah calls saying needs you to do something, you're gone at the drop of a hat."

"We're just friends."

"Amigo," I laughed, "friends don't look at friends the way you look at her when you think nobody else is looking at you. Just...stop fighting it. Ask her out, and treat her nicely, the way you always do. Be there for her when she needs someone to pick up her cat from the vet, or when she needs someone to go with her to Tower Records to get the latest Jamie Cullum album. She's a sweet kid, Nate, she's cute, she likes you, and she's good for you." I reached out to pat him on the shoulder. He looked at my hand with his eyes wide, like I'd suddenly grown claws or something.

"What? It's not like I have the ebola virus."

"No," he said, "you...you can move your arm!"

"Hey, don't change the subject."

A nurse knocked and then opened the door. "There's a visitor for you, Dr. Sloan."

I looked back at Nate. "Get moving, man, before I kick your ass with my fully-functional leg."

On his way out, he smiled and stopped to talk to someone obscured from view. Then, that someone walked into the room.

Was I hallucinating? "Damn. When you said 'see you soon,' I didn't think you meant this soon."

Derek grinned and sat down. "I'm still listed as your emergency contact person, so here I am."

"Ooh," I hissed, "please don't remind me of that time I contracted a nasty case of food poisoning post-Mardi Gras."

"Hey, you brought it up," he pointed out. "And I have a right to talk about it whenever I want to--it's not like I enjoyed any part of holding the vomit bucket for you."

I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the pillow. "Always the martyr."

"Always the jackass," he retorted.

"Oh, so you came here to insult me?"

"Well, what did you _want _me to do? Spoon with you?"

"I know I'm prettier than Meredith, but really. Say that again and I'll need the vomit bucket."

He leaned his elbows on the bedside. "So, care to elaborate on the sequence of events that led to this? Did you just up and decide to get wasted and then go for a drive?"

I shook my head, looking through the blinds hoping to see a certain redhead. Instead, the area was empty, save for Nate and Hannah sitting on the chairs. She was apparently smiling and nodding at something he'd said. I looked back at Derek.

"Man, you _know _I need at least eight beers to be considered drunk. I had just the one, and that was an hour before I went driving. And I was driving to Addison's, since you told me to do something." I laughed at a sudden realization.

"What's so funny?"

"I got into a car accident...because of you!" I said between fits of laughter. "You, you met Meredith because of me, and I got into a car accident because of you!"

He laughed as well. "What can I say, karma's a bitch."

"Aren't you supposed to be back in Seattle blow-drying your hair or something?"

"I don't blow-dry my hair! You're just insanely jealous of my ethereal beauty."

I rolled my eyes and raspberried. "Gee, I totally am."

"Scar-face."

"Airhead."

"Jackass."

"Scruffy."

"Slut."

"Manorexic."

"Oh, so now the issue is my weight?" he laughed.

"You're like a skeleton with hair."

"Well, at least it's pretty hair."

"Riiight."

He leaned back in his chair. "Anyway, I told the Chief that I was taking the day off because of an emergency."

"How sweet of you."

"Don't flatter yourself," he told me, although he was smiling. "Hey, can you give me a minute? I gotta call Meredith and tell her that everything's okay."

I nodded and watched him leave.

Since the moment I woke up in this hospital bed, there was only one person on my mind. Where was Addison? I sank into the pillows and closed my eyes, exhaling sharply.

"...Mark?"

* * *

_A/N:_ Song by Duncan Sheik, one of my all-time favorite artists. Hopefully I can finish this story before the GA season 3 premiere:)


	9. Your Love is the Killing Kind

_A/N:_ So...I missed my personal deadline. Sorry, guys. Anyway, here's the penultimate chapter, with a Shelby Lynne song serving as its title. Enjoy!

**Chapter 9: (Your Love is the) Killin' Kind (Addison's POV)**

I knew what I would do. I would call him and tell him the truth. I'd tell him that I wanted to be with him more than anything.

Grabbing my purse off the bed, I fished out my cellphone. The words "2 new voice messages" flashed on the screen. "Message 54."

"Addison, are you home? I'm on my way there, and I'm not gonna leave until I get an answer out of you, because I love you and I don't want to wait any longer. Just so you know, this is an ultimatum. And there's nothing you can do abou--"

Tires screeching. A horn blaring. Glass breaking.

This doesn't sound good.

"Message 55."

"Dr. M, this is Alex. You've got to come to the hospital as soon as possible!"

* * *

I ran through the doors, cursing fate for what happened. "Where is Mark Sloan?" I asked the receptionist.

"Room 309."

The elevator might have taken too long, so I went up the stairwell, only stopping to catch my breath at the third floor. The area was quiet, save for the barely audible scribbling of the nurse on her pad. A few people were standing outside the rooms holding flowers and balloons. Someone was headed for the telephone on the desk.

Wait, is that...oh my God, it is.

I didn't say anything, I just smiled in greeting. He smiled back. An uneasy silence ensued.

"Uh...how's Meredith?" I blurted out awkwardly.

"Good," Derek replied, nodding. "She's good."

"A-and Mark?"

"He's alive."

I sighed in relief and looked beyond. The door to Room 309 was a few meters away. My hands were shaking. I tugged at my collar.

"Addison, are you okay?"

"How is it," I said, laughing nervously, "that you got here before I did?"

He shrugged. "Red eye."

"Does this mean you're not mad at Mark anymore?"

"Yeah. We talked on the phone just yesterday. About you."

"Me? What did he say?"

Derek led me to the door. "It's too long to explain, but I know that it would mean a lot to him that you're here." He twisted the knob. "You should talk to him."

He was just about to walk away when I stopped him. "Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for understanding."

He smiled before heading to the telephone by the desk. I turned and opened the door, finally catching a glimpse of Mark and hearting the slow beep of the heart rate monitor. He had his eyes closed. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, tubes were attached to his arms, and he was noticeably pale. Even then, he was still everything to me.

"...Mark?"

He opened his eyes. "Addison!"

My gaze traveled to the heart rate monitor, which had begun beeping at a quicker pace. I laughed. "I know you don't mean that," I said, pointing to the monitor, "but it's actually kind of sweet."

"You are going to be the death of me, woman."

Biting my lower lip, I moved to the bedside and held his hand, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. "I'm not gonna be one of those people who runs and embraces you and screams 'Thank God you're alright!'"

"I know," he replied, squeezing my hand. "But you're here anyway."

"Yeah."

Without letting go of him, I leaned in and kissed him softly.

"Whoa. Keep this up and I won't be needing the morphine anymore."

I laughed. "Oh, Mark!"

He held up his free hand. "Let me just say, your timing sucks. In Seattle, I had that enormous, unattractive gash across my cheek, and now I'm practically incapacitated, covered in bruises and bandages, and I have this stupid, unflattering surgical gown on. Why do you always have to see me at my worst?"

I shook my head. "None of it matters to me. You're still Mark, and I still want you, even in your stupid, unflattering surgical gown." I moved over and lay down beside him on the bed, clasping my hands behind his neck. "There's no point in me lying to myself or anyone else. So you want an answer, Mark? Then here: I love you."

"You do?"

"And I'm not just saying this because I'm scared you're gonna kick the bucket soon. You're going to live, and I'm going to be there for you every single moment."

"Once I can get out of this bed," he said, sitting up, "you'll let me take you out on a real date?"

I nodded, smiling.

"Oh, thank God," he sighed. "You do realize that this time, I'm not gonna let you go?"

"You'd better not."

Just then, Derek strode in. "Hey."

"Hey."

I sat up and looked from one to the other. "So you two are _really _quits now?"

"Yep."

Mark grinned. "Bros before hos, man!"

I rolled my eyes as they laughed and bumped fists.

"By the way," Derek said, clearing his throat, "There's something coming up next month, and I'd really like it if you two could attend."


	10. I'm the Man Who Loves You

_A/N:_ It's a wedding indeed. Yeah, I'm THAT predictable. :P Sorry. Anyway, the last song is by the awesome alt-country band Wilco.

By the way -- WTF, they're turning the Mark character into a complete asshole/slut on _Grey's Anatomy_? And he's hitting on EVERYBODY? Trying to break up Mer/Der? That sucks. Talk about totally smashing my dreams of sweet, sweet Mark and his beloved Addison riding off into the sunset. Thanks a bunch, Shonda Rhimes.

* * *

**Epilogue: I'm the Man Who Loves You**

The church was large and elaborate, held up by marble pillars. The aisle was sprinkled with white, pink and red rose petals. Pew upon pew was occupied by the friends and family of the bride and groom. A number of them were crying, which made Cristina scoff. The bride herself was getting teary-eyed.

"She'd better watch it. I don't want to see a single mascara stain on that Vera Wang!" she hissed to Burke, who was standing beside her.

He elbowed her playfully. Cristina being Cristina, she'd decided to wear a black gown to the wedding despite the bride's protests. They both quieted down as the wedding vows began.

"I do," said the groom.

Addison smiled at Mark, more delectable than ever in his tuxedo. He winked at her.

The priest cleared his throat. "And do you, Meredith, take Derek to be your husband, in sickne--"

"I do," she interrupted, giggling.

"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Addison and Cristina simultaneously rolled her eyes as the newlyweds kissed, but both were still smiling.

-o-

"You make for really good arm candy, you know that?"

"Must be the suit," Mark said, fixing his boutonniere as they walked through the hotel lobby for the wedding reception.

"Yeah," she replied, before leaning in to whisper, "but you still look better naked."

Just then, Izzie hurried towards them, grinning hugely. "Dr. M! Can't wait to start at the hospital next week!"

She cleared her throat as Mark stifled a laugh. "I'm looking forward to it, Dr. Stevens. So you're finally over the...initiation?"

"Yeah. Besides, I've got inspiration for working in New York." She squeezed Alex's hand.

"Thank you so much for accepting it, Dr. M," Alex said.

"I must say, Stevens," Mark commented, "I've never seen Karev smile this big in all the days I've known him."

She giggled and blushed in reply. It was then announced bouquet throwing was about to start, at which Izzie went to join the other women in the crowd, with Alex following to watch. Addison stayed behind, however.

"Aren't you...don't you want to, uh...?"

"I don't have to, Mark." She smiled at him. "I know you're gonna marry me, and we don't need a bunch of flowers to prove it."

"Big and formal and cheesy and weepy like this one?"

"Hmm. How does Vegas sound?"

"Perfect."

They were about to kiss, but were then interrupted by a shrill squeal of delight in the crowd. Izzie had caught the bouquet, and she giddily went to hug Alex.

"Kids," Mark scoffed.

At the dinner, everyone turned to face Cristina as she cautiously held the microphone in her hands.

"Okay, uh...I don't approve of you two not getting a pre-nup, but whatever. I didn't approve of you hooking up with your boss's boss either, but it apparently worked out for you. So," she said, holding up her champagne flute. "Here's to my ditzy, kooky best friend Meredith, and her latest -- hopefully her last -- conquest, Doctor McDreamy. Here's hoping for less drama and more love, and annoyingly cute little McDreamies in your future. To the new Mr. and Mrs. McDreamy!"

"Cheers!" Everyone toasted to it. Especially the main table, with George and Callie, Nate and the girl he finally managed to ask out, Hannah, Izzie and Alex, Addison and Mark.

Nate looked around at all the happy couples. "You know," he told Hannah, "this is what Wayne and Garth would call the 'Super Happy Ending.'"

"Oh, Nate," she laughed.

The newlyweds took their seats at the head of the table. After all the congratulations had been said, Mark turned to Meredith. "Hey, you."

"Hey yourself."

"You know something?"

The bride shook her head and smiled at him. "No, what?"

"Turns out life is on the side of the dirty mistresses, after all."

She placed her hand over Derek's at the table and smiled. "Apparently so."


End file.
